The Carrie Diaries and Summer in the City. Candace Bushnell

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      Really? Donna LaDonna has stolen just about every one of her friends’ boyfriends at one time or another, simply to remind them that she can.

      “Notice I said trying. Because the most pathetic thing about it is that she hasn’t succeeded. He called me last night and told me what a”—Donna suddenly leans forward and whispers in Tommy’s ear so I can’t make out the word—“she is.”

      Tommy laughs uproariously.

      Sebastian called her?

      No way. I can’t let her get to me.

      “Excuse me,” I say again. But this time it’s much louder and with much more authority. If she doesn’t turn around, she’s going to look like a complete idiot.

      She turns. Her eyes slide over me like slow-burning acid. “Carrie,” she says. “Since you seem to be a person who likes to change the rules, I thought we’d change our seats today.”

      Clever, I think. Unfortunately, not allowed.

      “Why don’t we switch seats another day?” I suggest.

      “Oooooh,” she says mockingly. “Are you afraid of getting in trouble? A Goody Two-shoes like you? Don’t want to ruin your precious record, do you?”

      Tommy throws back his head as if this, too, is hilariously funny. Jeez. He would laugh at a stick if someone told him to.

      “All right,” I say.“If you won’t move, I guess I’ll have to sit on top of you.”

      Childish, yes. But effective.

      “You wouldn’t dare.”

      “Oh really?” And I lift my handbag as if I’m about to place it on her head.

      “I’m sorry, Tommy,” she says, getting to her feet. “But some people are simply too juvenile to bother with.” She brushes past me on her way out, deliberately stepping on my foot. I pretend not to notice. But even when she’s gone, there’s no relief. My heart is thumping like an entire brass band. My hands are shaking.

      Did Sebastian really call her?

      And where is Sebastian anyway?

      I manage to get through assembly by berating myself for my behavior. What was I thinking? Why did I piss off the most powerful girl in the school over a guy? Because I got the opportunity, that’s why. And I took it. I couldn’t help myself. Which makes me a not-very-logical and perhaps not-very-nice person as well. I’m really going to get into trouble for this one. And I probably deserve it.

      What if everyone is mad at me for the rest of the year?

      If they are, I’ll write a book about them. I’ll send it into the summer writing program at The New School, and this time I’ll get in. Then I’ll move to New York and make new friends and show them all.

      But right as we’re shuffling out of assembly, Lali finds me.“I’m proud of you,” she says. “I can’t believe you stood up to Donna LaDonna.”

      “Eh, it was nothing.” I shrug.

      “I was watching the whole time. I was afraid you were going to start crying or something. But you didn’t.”

      I’m not exactly a crybaby. Never have been. But still.

      The Mouse joins us. “I was thinking…Maybe you and me and Danny and Sebastian could go on a double date when Danny comes up to visit.”

      “Sure,” I say, wishing she hadn’t said this in front of Lali. With Maggie mad at me, the last thing I need is for Lali to feel left out as well. “Maybe we can all go out. In a group,” I say pointedly, adding, for Lali’s sake, “Since when did we start needing boyfriends to have fun?”

      “You’re right,”The Mouse says, catching my drift.“You know what they say: A woman needs a man about as much as a fish needs a bicycle.”

      We all nod in agreement. A fish may not need a bicycle, but it sure as hell needs friends.

      

      “Ow!” Someone pokes me in the back. I turn, expecting to see one of Donna LaDonna’s lieutenants. Instead, it’s Sebastian, holding a pencil and laughing.

      “How are you?” he asks.

      “Fine,” I say, heavy on the sarcasm. “Donna LaDonna was sitting in my seat when I got to assembly.”

      “Uh-huh,” he says noncommittally.

      “I didn’t see you in assembly.”

      “That’s because I wasn’t there.”

      “Where were you?” I can’t believe I just said that. When did I turn into his mother?

      “Does it matter?” he asks.

      “There was a scene. With Donna LaDonna.”

       “Nice.”

      “It was ugly. Now she really hates me.”

      “You know my motto,” he says, playfully tapping me on the nose with his pencil. “Avoid female trouble at all costs. What are you doing this afternoon? Skip swim practice and let’s go somewhere.”

      “What about Donna LaDonna?” It’s the closest I can come to asking if he called her.

      “What about her? You want her to come too?”

      I glare at him.

      “Then forget about her. She’s not important,” he says as we take our seats in calculus.

      He’s right, I think, opening my book to the chapter on rogue integers. Donna LaDonna is not important. Calculus is, along with rogue integers. You never know when a rogue integer is going to show up and ruin your entire equation. Perhaps that’s how Donna LaDonna feels about me. I am a rogue integer and I must be stopped.

      “Carrie?”

      “Yes, Mr. Douglas?”

      “Could you come up here and finish this equation?”

      “Sure.” I pick up a piece of chalk and stare at the numbers on the blackboard. Who could ever imagine that calculus would be easier than dating?

      

      “So the long knives are out,” Walt says, referring to the assembly incident with a certain degree of satisfaction. He lights a cigarette and tilts back his head, blowing smoke into the rafters of the dairy barn.

      “I knew he liked you,”The Mouse says triumphantly.

      “Mags?” I ask.

      Maggie shrugs and looks away. She’s still not talking to me.

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